


Reception (Fourth; Awaken)

by Burnadette_dpdl



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Angst, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burnadette_dpdl/pseuds/Burnadette_dpdl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[IWTV-era] Lestat brings Louis to a gathering, once again aiming to correct his fledgling's dietary choices. Like many offspring do, the offer of the right kind of sustenance is still met with resistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reception (Fourth; Awaken)

**Author's Note:**

> No spoilers. IWTV-era, pre-Claudia. This is the outgrown version of a drabble. Prompt words used: Fourth and Awaken.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Munchausen By Proxy Syndrome mentioned.

"This is her _fourth_ child, Louis," I said. "How many more should we let her have?" I folded my arms and studied him.

He watched her across the room. There was no question about it, she was captivating, with her hair pulled into smooth shining loops, her tight little waist, and although her black gown was conservatively formed, the layer of diaphanous material lent her more the appearance of a portrait than a living woman. I had pulled him aside to remind him why I had gotten us invited to this funeral reception at all, especially distasteful to me as it featured an open casket. With a dead child inside. Presumably so the grieving mother could reach out and stroke its graying cheek now and then. A fine prop. Inwardly, I applauded her theatricality.

I took the long moment of silence as a chance to take in the vision that was Louis: wrapped in his tailored black suit, so refined. The crisp white shirt and high collar shone in the gloom, and I would have enjoyed abandoning this ordeal, finding a darker corner to tear away his glossy satin cravat, peel back that stiff collar-

"How do you know?"

I sighed with more than a hint of exasperation. "I've read her thoughts. We've been through this. Goddammit Louis," I smoothed a fold in the carpet with the tip of my boot. _"I know what she calls her husband's privates."_ He gaped at me. "And it's very unkind."

"I don't believe you."

"Which part?" I had to stare at him now.

"That she's doing this for attention."

"It's painfully obvious. And I see it in her heart."

"How could a mother kill her own child?" Now he was looking a little more suitably concerned. _"Children?"_ He corrected himself before I could. Was he on the verge of tears? This wouldn't do at all. I took him by the shoulders.

"Louis, it happens all the time. All the time. _Everywhere."_

He fell silent.

"I've already tasted her," I said, with some edge. He looked away, not concealing his disgust. I'd let her wounds bleed a little under her beaded choker, which she prodded at every few minutes. Couldn't he scent it? Didn't it awaken anything in him? "We can take her together..." I said, but I left the suggestion unfinished, hope draining away, along with my own appetite for any of this. He was so predictable. But he could be so much more!

"She feeds on the sympathy, Louis, she's drunk on it, look at her face! Can't you see it? She's worse than we are. She creates only to destroy. This isn't over," I stared into his eyes. "She's already planning her next funeral." My grip on his arm tightened. "You could be an avenging angel, Louis!"

He shook his head. I let him carefully extricate himself from me, bid goodnight to the contemptuous actress of a grieving mother. She burst into a fresh bout of blubbering misery just for him, it seemed, since most of the other guests had left. She won a comforting embrace. Her eyes gleamed at me over his shoulder, her fingers blatantly stroking his inky dark hair. 

I felt myself bite at my lower lip. Oh yes, I was growing thirsty once again. I advanced upon my Flaminia for her last dance.


End file.
